Strangely in Place

It seemed almost unnatural when my mind began fading into darkness, guided by a mouth that was going downwards so much slower than the upward strokes. Still in the uncomfortable shoes I had worn the whole day, it was through that stiff pecker that she managed to suck my aches out, all the while moaning to create that subtle vibration which she knew would get to me.

In the void of light, as energy drained slowly out of me, my thigh muscles twitched randomly to her controlled moves, each specifically made to ease me, or my stress if any. There was no way I could resist, the thoughtful act of draining me of all tiredness.

When her mouth finally left my dissonant manhood after too-long, it was her playful hand that lead me to the bed, where I collapsed onto without so much a push or hesitation.

A few depressions between my legs later, I was back in heaven, pleasure expressed through the breaths of air I took in through my disbelieving mouth. The moment she circled that glib tongue around my pinnacle of lust, my senses slowly regained control of my disconnect.

I came back, right before it got too agonising.

My chest shared her weight a few times as she climbed over my body, granting me the sight of her beautiful, bronze complexion for the few seconds she took to orientate my member. Then, she rolled her hips backwards and a succulent split took me home, which my eyes couldn’t stay open for no matter how hard I tried.

Tensed, but pleasurable bounces ravished my groin as she rocked herself back and forth, depriving and gratifying herself with each piercing entry of my confidently-upright organ. Rough, she was, but not violent. I could feel myself going between her lady part, meant to be spread but seemed so reluctant.

It was that little struggle, between apart, and together, that I found myself submitting to.

After a period of hastened bouncing with her hands clutching my ribs hard, a break came for me. One that felt like we broke through the clouds, and getting a dose of sunny, white light on us. Upon the descend into my abyss, her fingers began vibrating above my groin, pushed strongly against her clit.

The walls closed, gradually in a blissful delight that made me uneasy, for fear that she might just tip me over. I was glad that I had my eyes closed when she sighed a moan into the room, before crashing into my chest. I could literally hear her heartbeat.

She came.

I put my arms around her and carefully rolled ourselves over, trading places for a different kind of motion. One that I would hold myself on my elbows as my hips worked vertically up and down, reaching far into her deep beyond. Tight as I taught she already was, my glut went into disarray once I found myself pushing through an impossible gap, though she was louder than ever.

Like a piledriver, I drove the shaft as my balls acted as markers, despite cheating by pushing my way too deep for their (balls) comfort. She was breaking, and I was reaping.

With my engines running at full capacity for too long, it was time to make that call, for a procedure I would nicely put as ‘fuel dump’. There I was, driven by them, for the ironic case of abandonment. Their agenda was mysteriously greater than mine.

As they awaited in the cool sacs facing strong turbulence from my uncontrollable lust, she looked strangely calmer than ever, with teeth biting lips for the inevitable. She was ready for the miniature versions of me.

So was I, ready to sow.




That one liftoff that we would enjoy as it went up, and erupt in thick, slimy goodness she could taste with her nether. As I lost control of my lower body, the nozzle sprayed every nook abundantly, ensuring an even coat of my conceivable liquid in every cranny.

As ‘spray’ turned to ‘squirt’, then to ‘ooze’, her feminity gracefully salvaged the last of them with a muscular squeeze, until a negative volume remained in me balls (not a typo).

Both of us could longer move, until a minute later when I rolled myself back on my knees, for an expectable soft moan when I ‘popped’ out. What ensued was a fantasy few men had seen, though the ladies might have a secret fetish for it.

The way her fingers transitted from the creampie into her lips, repeatedly, was so desirable. I only had questions that she would never let me find out, for the fact that she wouldn’t share any (of my man juice). Somehow, it did the job of perking her up, for a bad reason.

Why so, you might ask.

Because apart from where I just released my minions into, I still owned the part where they came from (my cock if you didn’t catch that). And there was no way she would waste me, or any of me.

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